Trees Are Green
by Niham
Summary: When Tenzin and Pema leave to visit family, Korra is left with the kids to learn crucial life skills. But things get crazier than ever when the ghost of Aang insists she learn energybending, like, right now. Luckily, the guys are there to help.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own the characters, themes, setting, and/or other story elements featured in the Legend of Korra. It's a slow start and certainly not as crazy as the kids at my work (I'm a preschool teacher), but I'll try to pick up the pace in the next chapters. I know it might not seem like the title has anything to do with the plot, but it does. I promise! Read and review please!

**Trees Are Green**

* * *

_Let it be little one, little one, leave it bare and let it rise up from the ground._

_Listen closely, little one, things that grow have a calm and gentle sound._

_Put your faith up on your walls, eventually the walls come down._

_Because the things you build don't last as long as growing things._

~Shook Twins

* * *

Fact: Trees are green, kids are crazy.

If asked to rate Tenzin's kids on a one-to-ten scale of insanity, she would give them a solid fifteen. Five automatically for being kids, five for their hyper antics combined in combination with air bending, and five for the baby. Because babies make every situation a just a little more complicated than necessary. So when Pema and Tenzin announced that Katara's health wasn't faring well and asked her to watch over the kids for a few weeks while they traveled south, she said, "Pssh, piece of cake They love me. I love them. What could go wrong?"

Oh, those famous last words.

The kids loved the idea of having Korra as their sitter. After the announcement, Ikki spent most of the day talking about all the awesome, fun things they would do together and Jinora begged for a trip to the public library. Meelo, on the other hand, felt very differently about the arrangement. He yanked at his father's beard all day, clinging to the man's shoulders more than usual. He questioned (interrogated) about their stay, how long they would be away, when they were coming back. Korra understood. He had never been away from both Tenzin and Pema before, and being separated from them for the first time must have felt rather scary.

And there was the baby. Korra didn't exactly expect to be taking care of him, too. Sure, she had held a baby once or twice before, but their mothers had never been too far away and—if she was being honest—Korra wasn't sure if she trusted herself alone with a baby.

As a child, all of her baby dolls had ended up with ragged clothes, scratched eyes, and singed hair. Whereas babies were fragile and needy, Korra was rough and tough and even as a young adult, when Korra played, she played hard. Was she ready for such responsibility?

She had tried to talk to her friends about it, but they were of little help. Bolin had it in his mind that girls automatically knew everything about babies, and Mako only confirmed her fears when he gave her a look and said, "They trust you with their children?" And then (that stupid jerk) had the gall to suggest she ask Asami for advice. As if Korra would actually bend her pride and ask Asami for advice!

No, the more Korra thought about it, the more she realized that everyone in her life had taken care of her. She'd never been responsible for anyone's well being before—except for Naga, who needed lots of attention, exercise and firm leadership. All of which Korra could provide. So maybe kids were like polar bear dogs?

"Okay, wait," Korra told Pema the night before her departure. "I don't think you should leave the baby here. The other kids, well, they're great. I can handle them. But when it comes to babies…I don't have a clue."

"He'll be fine," the older woman assured, carefully packing a pile of fresh clothes into a woven bag. "You'll be fine."

"No, I'm totally, definitely, one hundred percent not the mothering kind of girl—"

Pema chuckled. "Oh, Korra," she said, smiling, "Every woman is a mother, and you certainly are no exception."

"That can't be right. I don't have kids."

"You don't need to have children to be a mother," she said, "children need a woman to run to when they're hurt, when they're scared. They need to be loved…and fed. While I am gone, they will look to you see that their needs are met."

"But—"

"Learning how to take care of a family is an important life skill," Pema said firmly, hands planted on her hips. She couldn't remember the last time she'd some peace and quiet with her husband, and she was determined not to give up this precious week. Besides, the last thing Katara needed was a bunch of children running around her sickbed, causing mayhem. "One day, you will have a child of your own, and you'll thank me for this."

"What if I do something wrong? What if I drop him? What if I put the diaper on backwards or—"

The woman smiled, knowing full well from her own experiences that airbender children rarely hit the ground, and when they did, they almost always sat up laughing. "Babies don't know if you care for them the right or wrong way, and if you drop him, well, babies bounce."

"Babies bounce? Really?"

"Really."

* * *

That night, Korra tossed and turned, listening to the squeaks and creeks of the old bed. She worried about Amon, that he would strike Airbender Island while Tenzin was away. She couldn't even protect herself from him or Republic City, let alone her new "test" family. But she would do her best in such circumstances—No! her gut interrupted, knotting into a ball of steel. You'll sooner lose your life than him anywhere near Tenzin's kids.

Her gut was right. She'd never had little brothers and sisters before, even though as a little, she'd begged her parents for a playmate. For a bender like herself. Someone she could coddle and protect, whose eyes wouldn't fall out; whose wooden limbs wouldn't break after just a few weeks of play.

A part of her almost resented them for leaving, Pema, especially. How could she have so much faith in Korra, a teenager whose first response to everything was to barrel head-first into the situation? Who expressed her frustration through swirling torrents of hellish inferno?

Korra buried her face into the pillow, breathing into it with a sigh. Either she's a fool, or she really does trust me. She took comfort in that last thought as a small cry broke the silence and sighed into the pillow again. Well, I might as well start now. Not like I'm sleeping anyway.

Dragging herself out of her bed, Korra made her way to the nursery. She learned over the side of the crib, watching the baby kick at the blanket, his face scrunched up as he gave a weak cry. "That is the fakest cry I have ever heard," she muttered.

The infant made a grumpy sound, rubbing his eyes with tiny fists. He was only a few months old, quite chubby in the cheeks, and secretly Korra loved him for that.

"Alright, alright. Don't get your diaper in a bunch. Sheesh."

As soon as she picked up the baby, fingers behind his head so that his head wouldn't flop backwards, the cries stopped instantly. Korra tried to lay him back down, but as soon as she did, he cried again, louder, angrier. His ultimatum: "Carry me or I'm going to wake everyone on this island."

Panicking, Korra picked him up quickly. She held him at arm's length, giving the stink eye as he sucked innocently on his fist. She said accusingly, "You little stinker. You just like to be held all the time."

Which could very well be a problem in the days to come. How on earth was she supposed to practice air bending, or bending in general with a baby on her hips? She certainly wouldn't be able air bending whether or not he was in her arms or crying in the background from a cradle. At least, the other kids could run (fly) around the gym and occupy themselves with mischief. I'm definitely gonna have to think about this one.

"Uhhh…"

Startled by a sleepy groan, Korra turned. Meelo stood in the doorway half asleep, shoulders slumped and a thread of drool oozing down his chin. Dragging his feet, he walked over and flung his arms around her legs.

"Meelo!" Korra hissed. "What are you doing?"

"Mama…"

Judging from his tone, the drool, and his half-closed eyes, Meelo was he was still somewhat asleep.

"I'm not your mom. Go back to bed."

Holding the baby close to her chest, Korra tried to pry him off her leg with a free hand, but it was no use. The more she pulled the tighter Meelo clung. "Meelo, your mom is in the other room. Go hug her."

"She's leaving me…you're my mama now."

It surprised Korra how quickly he had adjusted to the idea of his parents leaving. Earlier, he had given Korraresentful looks, as if it was her fault they needed to leave, and now he was literally attached at her ankle. She sighed. Kids. Maybe they did bounce back after all.

"Meelo—"

"Korra? Korra!" came another small voice, this one belonging to Tenzin's youngest daughter. "Korra! What are we all doing out of bed? Is something happening? Are we having a camp out? An adventure? Are we? Please, oh please, oh, please say yes!"

"Shh!" Korra hissed. "What are you doing out of bed? You're supposed to be asleep."

"I heard strange noises and strange voices and it sounded like so much fun! I've always wanted to have a sleep over with you. We can do our nails and hair and talk about cute boys!" She clapped her hands, bouncing excitedly. "I should get Jinora—"

"Ikki, wait!"

But it was too late. With a swoosh of wind, the girl had already disappeared into the darkness. Korra closed her eyes and sighed. Spirits help her. If this was a preview of the days to come, she would need all the patience they had to offer.

Picking up her leg, with Meelo still attached, Korra shifted the baby's weight and trudged into the hall. It was clear that Meelo was not going to let her out of his grasp, and his brother certainly would not tolerate being put back in his crib. She could already hear Jinora's voice in the other room. "Fine," she relented. "Sleep over it is."

* * *

They were extra quiet that night, cramming into Korra's bed which was so not built to fit five. Between the weight of the extra blankies, pillows, and occupants, Korra wondered how the old frame didn't collapse. Naga watched them the corner, tail sweeping across the floor as the girls bed up into a cramped but cozy next. The polar bear dog watched the scene with eyes wide and curious as this had never happened before.

"I want to do your hair," Ikki announced, climbing behind Korra with a wooden comb in hand.

"Just don't lose anything," Korra said, reaching back to take out the beads that her hair out of her face. Each bead was crafted from either shell or bone, and painted carefully to match her eyes. Her father had made them for her; he was good with his hands and just as skilled with a knife as he was a spear. Korra missed him so much. His laugh, his unrivaled appetite. The man could eat about as much as Naga. Her mother, Senna, certainly believed he it. Korra missed her, too. If there was one woman in the entire world with answers to life's daily questions, Senna had them all—and with a husband like Tonraq, Korra honestly doubted anyone (man or woman) could out-cook her.

While Ikki worked on Korra's hair, carefully raking small fingers through messy black tresses, her sister read aloud from an journal of yellowed parchment and old, flaking leather. Korra played with the baby lying between her knees, letting him push against her palms with his tiny feet. His toes curled around her finger when she ticked them. Near the bed's footboard, buried under the blankets, Meelo slept like a corpse with an impliable death grip cinched around Korra's ankle left ankle. His snores could be heard beneath the covers that slowly rose and fell with each breath.

Despite Ikki's cheerful, energy, it wasn't long before she let out a loud, tired yawn and curled up at Korra's side. Soon after, Jinora closed her book, tucked it under her arm like a teddy bear, and curled up at Korra's other side. "I'm glad you're staying here with us," she said as Korra sat back against the headboard, baby resting quietly on her chest.

Korra reached back and touched her hair, tightly plated and fasted into a single braid that dangled below her shoulder blades, tickling her spine. She smiled. "Me too."

* * *

It was Pema who woke her up at the crack of dawn She stood over the bed and pressed a finger to her lips. She kissed each of her children on the forehead as they slept and then whispered to Korra, "Enjoy the peace while it lasts. Breakfast is in the icebox, and Tenzin's left you a note in the study."

Korra groaned. More instructions, no doubt. "Where is he?"

"Outside getting things read. If you need anything, let the monks know. They'll be happy to lend a hand." She added in a more serious tone, "And if there's ever an emergency, I want you to call Lin Bei Fong."

"Her?"

Korra winced at the outburst as the baby on her chest stirred. Jinora cracked an eye open and then closed it again. Ikki scooted closer to her. Meelo, who had loosened his grip on Korra's leg in the middle of the night, rolled over, snoring lightly.

"She hates me," Korra whispers, unable to help the bitterness in her voice. The last thing Korra wanted was to listen to Lin Bei Fong tell her she was an incompetent Avatar and a bad babysitter.

"We've already made the arrangements. She'll be checking up on you after each shift. She's seen how crazy the kids get. She'll understand. Just…try not to burn the temple down."

"Please, like I would actually burn down the temple!"

This time, she wasn't so lucky. Suddenly, the room came alive with a shrill wail quickly followed by the chorus of young voices.

"Mommy, make him stop!"

"That's too loud!"

"I want ice cream!'

Pema laughed and took the baby from her. She had a bottle in her hand, instantly, pulled from a secret pocket in her cloak. "Alright my loves, it's time to get up. Come say good-bye to your father."

There was a chorus of sleepy groans and shuffling feet as they made their way out into the courtyard, one-by-one, all in a row rather in the way of tired baby duck waddle after their mother early in the morning—with Korra bringing up the rear, of course.

"We will certainly home early if my mother seems to be doing better than your father's letter described," Tenzin told her as the children hugged their father good-bye. "Try to stick to our normal routine. Also, the city has become rather dangerous, especially at night. I would prefer if you all stayed on the island—"

Korra covered her face with a hand. "Great, I'm going to miss a ton of practices. Mako's never going to let me hear the end of this." And we've got a tournament coming up. Wonderful.

"Are you finished? I was going to say, if you must practice for your next tournament, your friends are welcome to bring their equipment here."

"Seriously?"

"I would rather you practice here than give you a reason to leave the island. The city is too vast for four small children to be wandering about, and with Amon stirring unease among the non-benders, crime rates have steadily risen. Here, you are safe."

"Sounds fair to me."

To Jinora's dismay, they wouldn't be taking any trips to the City Library unless, of course, the mood struck Korra to disobey the rules.

With that settled, Tenzin turned his attention to the children. "You must behave yourself while I am away," he said. "If I Lin tells me that you have been awful for Korra, there will be serious consequences." His eyes lifted to Korra, a glance clearly warning that if she did anything crazy, he would find out about it.

"Tell Gran-Gran I love her," Jinora said, "and that I read about her adventures with grandpa every day."

Those same adventures were, in fact, the ones she had read aloud during her "sleep over" in Korra's room, and she must have cherished those old journals an awful to sleep with them.

"Yeah," Meelo added, hugging his mom—his real mom for the umpteenth time. "Gran-Gran should move here."

"That would be so great!" Ikki cried. "Wouldn't it Korra?"

Korra smiled, despite the weight in her chest. Her heart felt like a clump of lead. Katara was ancient and if her health was indeed on the decline, then surely her time among the living was nearing an end…and the kids had no idea. They knew she was ill, but for them being "sick" was nothing more than a stuffy nose.

Even so, as surely as the wind sifts between green and limber bows, they would find out sooner or later and Korra prayed that she wouldn't have to be the grown up break the news. So she summoned a mask, cool and undisturbed like a sheet of stone, and shrugged. "Yeah, tell her I've put some use to her healing techniques. She'll be happy to know it's come in handy. And tell my mom I miss her cooking."

"Of course," Pema said and slipped the baby carefully into Korra's arms, ever careful of the bottle that was still in his mouth. Then she gave Korra a tight hug and added, "You take care of them, you hear? I'm trusting you with my babies."

"Yeah, yeah. Naga and me will keep them safe. I promise."

Naga and I, Tenzin was about to correct, but decided to let it go. After one last round of hugs and good-byes, Tenzin helped his wife into the bison's saddle and with a snap of the rains and final farewell, they were off.


End file.
